


between you and the alcohol

by asbestosgang



Category: Red Letter Media, RedLetterMedia RPF, redlettermedia
Genre: Anal Sex, Beer, Did I mention sex?, Drunk Sex, Eating out, Gay, Gay Sex, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, hell yeah gay rights, they are just two dudes having a good time, they are not dating but also mostly are, why is there just a beer tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-17
Updated: 2019-12-17
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:41:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21826885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asbestosgang/pseuds/asbestosgang
Summary: being drunk is always a good excuse. maybe they use it too often. (in other words, Mike and Jay get smashed--and proceed to smash).
Relationships: Mike Stoklasa/Jay Bauman, Mike/Jay
Comments: 8
Kudos: 26





	between you and the alcohol

“You’re too fucking smashed to drive.”

“I didn’t do vodka shots off a random twink’s naked chest, Jay.”

“You DID lose three whole games of beer pong, though.”

“Fuck,” Mike grumbled, admitting defeat. “Then how the fuck’re we getting home?”

“...we aren’t.”

Jay pointed at the flickering neon sign above a motel across the street from the bar. Mike’s lips curved into a lazy smile.

“That’s kinda gay, Jay.”

“Are you surprised?” Jay asked, the booze running through him making him bold. Mike laughed.

“Guess not.”

They walked (more like stumbled) towards the motel, having a slurred conversation meanwhile.

“He was a fuckin’ hot twink,” Jay mumbled, a filthy grin spreading across his face.

“Shut the ffffuck up,” Mike rolled his eyes. “You might as well be a twink yourself, asshole.”

“What? No way,” he pouted. Mike moved closer, wrapping his arm around Jay’s shoulders as they walked, making him blush.

“Why not? That’s my type.”

Jay was smiling like an idiot now, his cheeks red and body warm. Mike didn’t seem to notice as he shoved open the motel door, startling the sleeping employee at the desk.

“Uh. Can I help you?” He asked groggily. Mike stepped forwards.

“Yeaaa, can I get a room?” 

“...Yeah, alright, just gimme your name, and let me get the key...” the employee shoved a clipboard with a list of names on it onto the counter before leaving, and Mike reached over to grab a pen, scribbling his name down. Jay walked over, leaning against the counter, knocking over a few empty soda cans in the process. The employee came back out of the back room holding a key.

“65 bucks.”

Mike scowled.

“Look man, I’m not in charge of the price.”

He dug in his wallet for money, but Jay beat him to it, slapping the cash on the counter.

“Cool. Have a nice time.” The employee tossed the key at Jay, who barely managed to catch it in his drunken state.

“Fffffuck you,” Mike grumbled, but Jay was already tugging him along into the old, creaky elevator to room 209. Jay now realized that they’d only gotten one room, and his face caught fire. He wondered if there were two beds. Neither of them had asked.

“Fuckin’ brat. What...what a dick,” Mike complained.

“He was a twink, though. I thought you liked those,” Jay quipped. Mike screwed up his face.

“Even I’ve got standards, you know.”

Jay wondered if anyone else met them, or if it was just him. The selfish thought made him grimace—he already knew the answer, anyways. Mike sighed, scratching the back of his neck.

“What...what room’re we in?”

“209.”

They stepped out of the elevator. Mike hadn’t seemed to notice yet. Jay wondered what he’d do when he did; maybe he was a little excited to find out.

Jay opened the door to the room, flipping on the stale yellow lights. 

“Swanky,” he snorted, glancing down at the stained carpet. Mike followed him in, shutting the door behind them.

“You gonna be okay, mister germaphobe?”

“Shut up,” Jay retorted noncommittally, and Mike grinned, before pausing, finally noticing that there was one bed for the both of them.

“If you want, you can go down and get another room,” Jay offered, shoving his hands into his jacket pockets. 

“Fuck that, I’m not payin’ 65 fuckin’ bucks for a shitty hotel room,” Mike declared as he yanked off his shoes and socks.

“Oh, but I can?” Jay asked in mock anger. Mike pouted.

“I was gettin’ out my wallet, you know...”

“I know,” Jay smiled. “But you paid last time.”

The atmosphere changed, becoming thicker, filling Jay’s lungs with anticipation. A blush spread across Mike’s cheeks, and he looked almost embarrassed.

“Shit, Jay, you’re keeping a tab?” He asked, scratching the back of his neck. Jay snorted, trying to keep his cool.

“Of course I am. I keep track of everything you owe me.” 

Mike grinned, leaning forward and trapping Jay against the wall.

“And what, exactly, do I owe you?” He whispered, his breath floating against Jay’s cheek as he leaned in.

“This.”

Jay kissed him. Sloppy and uncoordinated, but soft, gentle, and Mike tried to chase him when he pulled back. There was a pause as Mike stared at him, his eyes struggling to focus, a dazed smile ghosting across his lips.

“Lemme pay you back, then. With interest.”

Mike kissed him sweetly, pressing Jay against the wall, his fingers brushing over his cheek. Jay grasped Mike’s hoodie, tugging him close.

“I can taste the beer,” Mike chuckled, biting Jay’s lip playfully. Jay snorted, wrapping his arms around Mike’s neck.

“Get the vodka too?”

“Yeah, and I fucking love it,” he groaned, slipping his fingers under Jay’s shirt. Jay shivered, but not because Mike’s hands were cold; on the contrary, they shot fire through his veins as he kissed Mike passionately, like he needed him (maybe because he did). Jay slipped his tongue into Mike’s mouth, surprising him. He didn’t fight back, letting Jay explore inside while his hands roamed across his chest, his thigh pressing up against Jay’s erection. For a second, Mike pulled back, and Jay whined in protest.

“Take off...your shirt,” Mike huffed, his breath short, and Jay realized they were going to go all the way.

“Hang on, back...back up, I wanna get on the bed.” 

Mike stumbled backwards, letting Jay stagger to the bed, collapsing onto the blankets. He clumsily tugged off his shoes and socks first—because it would be weird to have sex with your shoes on. Then he managed to remove his shirt, tossing it over onto the floor. Mike swayed over to him, before falling on top of him and pinning him to the bed.

“You’re fucking heavy, you asshole,” Jay complained, but it kind of turned him on, the way Mike’s body pressed against him, giving him friction as he bucked his hips upward.

“And you’re ffffucking horny,” Mike slurred, his hand pinching Jay’s nipple, causing him to moan.

“Sh-shit, Mike, wait,” Jay gasped, tugging at his hoodie. Mike got the message, sitting up and yanking it off and away, revealing a plain tee shirt, and he paused, as if unsure of whether or not to keep going.

“The shirt, too,” Jay encouraged, and he obeyed, tossing it somewhere. 

“You look fucking hot, you know,” Mike whispered, his mouth stretching into a satisfied grin.

“Shut up.”

But Jay’s face flushed.

Mike surged in to kiss him again, and Jay fell back against the bed, spreading his legs so that Mike could slot his body through. They were both moaning, and Jay remembered something he loved about Mike; he was quiet, took to whimpering, whining, whispering sweet, slurred nothings in Jay’s ear. He hadn’t expected that, the first time. Mike acted like such a domineering, borderline narcissistic asshole sometimes that Jay had figured he’d be just as rough in bed—and sometimes, when he was pushed hard enough, he could be. But he was usually soft, unsteady but careful, trying to treat Jay like a fragile object.

Jay, on the other hand, was loud; the air full of his moans and gasps and breathless calls of Mike’s name, spurring him on, causing him to fiddle with Jay’s belt buckle, yanking off his jeans.

“Fuck—Mike, wait, there’s—ah, a condom in my wallet.”

Even though Jay thought it was hotter to do it raw, Mike had a bad habit of not pulling out in time, and then Jay would have to deal with the cleanup later. He’d rather not, at least tonight.

“What, you saw this coming?” Mike laughed, his hand stroking across Jay’s thigh. 

“Well, I was kind of hoping it’d be with a hot girl, but you’ll have to do.”

Mike stood up and grabbed Jay’s jeans, rifling through the pockets until he pulled out his wallet.

“Hey, don’t take any of my money,” Jay warned, sitting up. Mike tugged out the condom, waving it in satisfaction, before pausing.

“Wait. Who’s, uh, putting it on?” He asked, his face blushing red. At this point, considering how many times they’ve done this, Jay didn’t even think it was a question that warranted asking. He would’ve accused Mike of messing with him if he didn’t look genuinely nervous.

“...you,” he said begrudgingly, and Mike didn’t push it, unzipping his jeans and nearly falling over as he took them off. He fumbled back over to Jay, brushing his cheek with his hand.

“I love you.“

Jay almost laughed, but he saw the look in Mike’s eyes—sincere, vulnerable, a little bit afraid—and he couldn’t.

“You’re drunk,” he reminded him.

“Yeah, and also I love you.”

Jay rolled his eyes, but his face was bright red, and it wasn’t from the booze.

“...I...Yeah. I love...you too,” he mumbled, frowning because he didn’t like admitting it—it meant he was vulnerable, just for a little while. Love was weird like that.

Mike’s eyes widened like Jay had just told him the moon was made of cocaine, and he lunged forward, pinning him to the bed.

“Careful, asshole,” Jay snapped, but Mike smashed their lips together and it morphed into a soft whine.

“Do you mean it?” He asked, quiet and hesitant, breath hot against Jay’s mouth. Jay avoided his eyes, but he nodded.

“More than the twink you did shots off of?” 

Jay snorted.

“Of course—I don’t have sex with just any old hack,” He quipped. Mike sneered.

“Awww, I feel special,” he chirped, his hand sliding down to palm at Jay’s erection through his boxers.

“Fuck, I—hang on, just take them off,” Jay ordered, voice breathy and short. Mike raised an eyebrow.

“You’re in a hurry.”

“I don’t have a change of underwear, idiot. I don’t want to...uh...you know.”

“What? Can’t handle a little jizz in your shorts?”

“Shut the fuck up!” Jay shoved Mike away, a laugh escaping his pursed lips anyways. “If you keep being gross I’m not going to fuck you.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t mean it please forgive me!” Mike blurted out, looking genuinely desperate, and Jay snorted.

“Take your underwear off, asshole.”

Mike happily obeyed as Jay tugged off his own boxers, tossing them in the general direction where Mike’s shirt had flown. 

“Got any lube?” He asked. A pause; Mike looked devastated. Jay rolled his eyes.

“It’s fine, you can just go in dry,” he huffed.

“No, I don’t want it to hurt,” Mike said softly, and maybe it was the alcohol, but he looked like the most adorable thing Jay had ever seen. Then his eyes lit up, sly and bright, the way they did when he got a filthy idea in his head.

“I can eat you out!” He exclaimed, like he’d just cracked the code revealing the secrets of the universe. 

“Wh—you—not so fuckin’ loud, Jesus!” Jay lunged forward, clamping his hand over Mike’s mouth. He was still smiling, Jay could see it in his eyes; he was annoyingly satisfied with himself.

“Is that even...what you call it? For a guy?” Jay asked, face scrunching up, hand falling back down to rest on Mike’s knee. Mike paused, thinking.

“I dunno. Why would they call it anything else?” He tilted his head.

“I don’t—I wouldn’t know, it’s not like I’ve ever—you know.“ Jay paused, frowning. It’s true, he hasn’t, because it’s strange and unsanitary and he’d never been particularly interested in other men’s assholes, anyways.

Mike raised an eyebrow.

“You’re being weirdly prudish, Jay.”

“You’re being weirdly enthusiastic,” he fired back, and Mike shrugged.

“Only because I love you.”

Shit. Jay’s face flushed, letting Mike know he’d gotten him.

“You’re just saying that so you can shove your tongue up my ass, aren’t you?” Jay narrowed his eyes.

A pause.

“It’s mostly sincere.”

Jay searched Mike’s face for any evidence of sleaze—and there was, a ton of it, but it was the most sincere sleaze he’d ever seen, something entirely on brand for Mike. 

“You’re so desperate,” he complained, scooting back on the bed so there was room for the both of them, leaving his legs open—an invitation. He had to admit, only to himself, that he was a little nervous. He’d never been eaten out before; nobody’s mouth had ever gotten close, because it was gross, weird, and dirty. 

Not that Jay didn’t like things like that—or things worse.

But he was still a little nervous anyways.

“Do you know what you’re doing?” He asked, leaning back on his elbows and watching Mike run his fingers across the back of his thigh, pushing his leg upwards.

“It can’t be that hard, right?” He joked, fingers brushing against Jay’s erection as he spoke, making him sigh. Mike pushed Jay’s other leg up, sidling himself between them, leaning down so Jay could feel his breath against his ass.

“Bon appétit.”

Before Jay could snap at Mike for saying something stupid, Mike pushed his tongue inside, and his breath flew away from him in a gasp.

“Fuck, Mike, that’s—that feels—“ Jay was at a loss for words, but Mike didn’t seem to need an explanation, pushing deeper inside, burying his face in Jay’s ass. Jay could feel his breath, hot and wet against his skin, making him shudder.

He felt Mike reaching up to trace along the length of his cock again, slow and methodical, finger slipping over the tip before sliding back downwards. Jay whined, arching his back, pushing against Mike’s face, his tongue, making filthy sounds, wanting more, wanting everything he could give him.

“Mike,” he whimpered. Mike just hummed, and he realized the downside to Mike tonguefucking his asshole was that he couldn’t hear his voice, couldn’t talk to him. Maybe that was good, because when he was occupied with Jay’s ass, he wasn’t saying stupid shit. But at the same time, it felt almost too quiet. He could hear wet, slick slurping sounds, and he shuddered at the vulgarity of it all. 

It turned him on more than he’d like to admit.

Mike’s face was bright red, and Jay could hear him breathing heavily—he wondered, with more than a hint of humor, if Mike was getting enough air down there. He was good; a little too good, making Jay think bitterly about all the women (or maybe men) Mike had practiced on. His tongue knew where to press, how to move, filling Jay up inside, making his body feel hot and his brain shut down. 

“Mike! Mike, hang-hang on—“ Jay started, and Mike stopped moving his tongue, but left it buried in Jay’s asshole, giving him an amused look.

“I’m—I’m close, so...” his voice faltered, and he bit his lip, feeling uncharacteristically shy, even though his cock was dripping with precum and his muscles were tensing up in anticipation for the inevitable release.

Mike tilted his head, as if to say ‘yeah, so what?’ 

“So...A-are you gonna put it in or what?” He asked, feigning confidence. Mike seemed to consider it, before pulling out, curling his tongue as he did so, making Jay let out a humiliating whine. He left his tongue lolling out of his mouth, dripping with saliva and sweat and whatever the hell else could be on there. After a moment to catch his breath, huffing like a dog—it was almost cute, in a weird way—Mike turned his attention to Jay’s dick instead.

“Ah! Wait, wai—fffffuck,” Jay moaned, watching Mike take in most of his length in one go. His hands reached down to tousle Mike’s hair, tugging at it as Mike bobbed his head, moaning obscenely, just the way Jay liked it.

“God, you’re so good, y-yeah, you’re so—“ Jay’s breath hitched as he came, head falling back against the blankets as his muscles went limp, and Mike hummed, taking it all in his mouth. He pulled off slowly, leaving a sticky, hot mess on Jay’s dick. Jay watched him swallow his come, dramatic, like he was savoring it.

“You taste good.”

“Shut up,” Jay replied automatically, before realizing he didn’t want Mike to stop talking; he liked the sound of his voice.

“Can we go another round?” Mike asked, filthy and sweet. Jay sighed, managing to sit back up, his legs weak and warm, his ass distinctly wet.

“...Why do you think I asked you to put it in earlier, idiot?” He complained, but he didn’t argue as Mike crawled up to him, brushing Jay’s cheek with his hand.

“Pleeeease? I know you can.”

“Just because I can doesn’t mean—“ Mike kissed him, slipping his tongue inside Jay’s mouth. He could taste his own semen mixing with the beer lingering on Mike’s tongue. It was so fucking disgusting, vulgar, lewd.

Jay already felt himself getting hard again, and Mike grinned triumphantly. Giving in, Jay let Mike climb on top of him, fingers skating over his hips, admiring his skin.

“You’re so damn cute,” Mike groaned, sucking at Jay’s neck, light so he wouldn’t leave a mark—it’s not like his territory was in danger. Mike seemed to sense that, even if they never said it. Once they started having these little one-night stands (which might’ve been happening too often to be called that anymore), they’d just...stopped having sex with other people. They didn’t really do it on purpose, and it wasn’t a conscious decision made on behalf of the other person. They just didn’t need anyone else anymore.

It was almost romantic.

Ugh.

“You’re drunk,” Jay reminded him.

“Yeah, and also you’re cute,” Mike retorted, giving Jay the vague feeling that they’d had this conversation before.

“Put on the damn condom,” he grumbled, and Mike obeyed happily.

“Can I put it in?” He asked, and Jay raised an eyebrow.

“Nah, just jerk off.”

“Come onnn,” Mike complained, pinning Jay to the bed and lining himself up. “I’m trying to be a gentleman.”

“Why? You’re an alcoholic, a slob, and a filthy fraud—“ Jay started, watching Mike’s face fall. “And there’s no other way I’d have it. I love you.”

For a second, it was about more than the sex and the alcohol. It was Mike. Everything about him—how he was sly and sincere and sleazy and sweet all in the same breath, and he didn’t even know he was doing it.

Mike seemed to understand well enough, and he grew unsteady, his bravado shaken. A small, nervous smile grew on his face, as if afraid Jay would take it back. He wasn’t used to him opening up first. Mike was the one who always said it, and so easily—it fell from his lips as casually as one might comment on the weather. Jay never understood how he did it, until now. It was just something that happened, that bubbled up from the warmth in his chest and spilled out from his mouth into the air. He couldn’t stop it.

Love was weird...if that’s what this even was. Maybe it was beer coming back up. As if to prove his point, Jay burped, the rancid mix of beer, vodka, and come floating in the atmosphere between them. 

“Oh, shit, sorry,” he laughed.

“That’s disgusting.”

Mike started to guffaw despite himself, his shoulders shaking as he leaned in close, their foreheads touching. For a moment, they forgot they were about to fuck.

“Who’s the slob?” Mike quipped, and Jay shoved him, but he was laughing too, because his breath smelled gross and he was amazed Mike had kissed him at all.

“Don’t forget you shoved your tongue in my asshole,” he retorted as Mike tried to catch his breath.

“I’d do it again, too,” he chirped, and Jay shoved him again—his knee rising up as he did so, brushing against Mike’s boner, causing his breath to hitch.

Oh, right.

Mike seemed almost embarrassed to ruin the mood, as if he’d forgotten their original intention tonight. Like this, right now, is what he’d wanted; to laugh at stupid shit with Jay in the late hours, alone together. And Jay had to admit, it sounded appealing to him, too.

But first they needed to take care of their raging erections.

“Okay, come here,” Jay ordered in an uncharacteristically soft voice—the kind he knew made Mike melt. 

They kissed again, and Mike took the opportunity to slip his cock inside, making Jay gasp. It was solid, unlike Mike’s tongue, and the rubber felt strange against his insides. Jay arched his back, his own dick brushing against Mike’s stomach.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” Mike whispered against Jay’s ear, making him shudder. But he pulled out much too slowly, agonizingly careful, and Jay grabbed the back of his head, tugging at his hair.

“Come on, it’s like you’ve never done this before,” he complained, biting his lip. Mike huffed, but his eyes took on a dangerous glint, the kind that got Jay’s motor running like nothing else.

“I told you,” he mumbled, kissing Jay on the top of his head. “I’m trying to be a gentleman.”

With that, he slammed into Jay so hard they both moaned, so loud he was sure even the twink in the lobby could hear them.

“Ffffuck yeah!” Jay laughed in breathless hysteria, and Mike grinned, savage and proud as he pounded into him, blowing his thoughts to pieces. 

“C-come on, fuck me up,” Jay demanded, almost growling, and Mike obliged, leaning down and chomping at Jay’s neck, clenching the skin between his teeth and sucking the skin until a dark purple bruise blossomed there, violent and impossible to cover up.

“I want—fuck, I-I want them to know. I want, ah! I want them all to know,“ Mike rambled, voice rough and crude, staring at the mark he’d left.

“Know—ahhh, oh, god—know what?” Jay managed to ask, legs wrapping around Mike’s waist, pulling him closer, deeper inside—Mike hit his prostate and Jay screamed.

“You’re mine,” Mike laughed, a quick, sharp burst tinged with lewd delirium, and Jay couldn’t help but nod.

“Haaa, fuck, Jay—say it! Oh, fuck, please, say it.”

On any other occasion, Jay would object to being anyone’s possession, but it was really hard to think with something hard and warm shoved up your asshole, slamming your prostate so hard you saw beautiful white stars on the dry, cracked ceiling of a dirty old motel room.

And he did say “please”.

“I’m yours,” he moaned, and Mike fucking lost it.

“Hhhholy shit,” he exclaimed, his voice pitching up in a manner very unbefitting of the brutal, dominant role Jay had pushed him to play. “That’s fucking it.”

He kissed Jay, fierce and desperate, and it was getting impossible to breathe as the room heated up. At some point, Jay might’ve stopped breathing entirely, his body shutting down and mind going blank as Mike threw him over the edge without even seeming to notice. By the time he fell back down to earth, Mike was getting close; Jay could tell because his arms were starting to buckle and his voice was giving out.

“J-Jay, Jay Jay Jay, you’re fucking mine—you’re mine, and I love you, I fucking love you, ffffuck you’re so beautiful.”

His voice grew quiet again, like it tended to, because Mike was a quiet man in bed. But Jay wanted him loud, loud enough for God to hear, so he squeezed his muscles—Mike shouted, some sort of wordless noise that might’ve contained his name. He collapsed onto Jay, his body limp, drenched in sweat, chest heaving as he buried his face in the crook of Jay’s neck.

“Sorry,” he whispered, struggling against the euphoria of his orgasm, squishing Jay into the sheets. Jay kissed his head, a silent act of forgiveness. Mike really didn’t take to the whole “big, scary alpha” thing, did he?

“You’re adorable,” he hummed, and he couldn’t see Mike’s expression but he could feel his body explode with warmth. Again, Jay wasn’t usually the one to say it.

“Aaaand you’re too hot. Scoot,” he ordered, unwrapping his legs from around Mike’s waist, and he slipped out of him; having almost forgotten he was inside at all, Jay moaned. He watched Mike get rid of the condom, and issued a silent apology to the janitor; if this place had one. It might just be the twink in the lobby.

Mike flopped down next to him, starting to catch his breath, eyes still wide and glazed over. Jay closed his legs, feeling the familiar twinge already starting to build up. He was going to be sore tomorrow.

“Fuck,” he whispered, and Mike groaned.

“Again? Didn’t we just go?” He complained jokingly. Jay punched him in the shoulder.

“I was just thinking it’s gonna be kind of gross to sleep in this bed now.”

“We weren’t in the sheets.”

“No, but you sweated all over them.”

“Not just me,” Mike grumbled.

“...either way, I’m gonna go take a shower.”

Jay hopped out of the bed, heading to the bathroom and showering, rinsing off the come on his chest with a feeling of mild disgust, finally starting to feel tired. It was late, and they were drunk, and now he’d hit his wall.

When he got out and put his underwear back on, Mike was almost asleep, and he nudged him.

“I love you, but you’re not getting under the blankets unless you clean yourself off first.”

“Aw, fuck,” Mike sighed, but he knew the drill by now, shuffling off the bed to his feet. Jay waited for him to get back, nearly falling asleep sitting up. Mike returned, cleaned off and wearing nothing but his boxers.

“Hey,” he started, flopping onto the bed next to Jay. “I wanna do this again tomorrow.”

“Have sex in a shitty motel room?” Jay asked, kissing him on the forehead.

“Just the first part. At my house. Or yours. I don’t care,” he rambled. “Actually, we don’t even have to fuck. We can go drinking. We can go see a movie. I don’t know, I just want to be with you.”

Jay turned away so Mike wouldn’t see him smile.

“You’re so clingy,” he quipped.

“Only because I love you.”

“...alright, go to bed.”

“That was smooth, wasn’t it? You liked it. Admit it,” Mike cooed, grinning. Jay nudged him with his foot, slipping under the covers.

“Good night,” he huffed in mock annoyance. Mike sidled in next to him, kissing the back of his neck in response, and Jay felt his chest ache, in a way that made him feel like he wanted time to freeze like this.

Love was weird.

**Author's Note:**

> I promised myself i wouldn't keep publishing porn anymore, but it's just so easy to write sex instead of things where plot happens. next one will be a real story with a real plot, or I'll suck Rich Evans' toes.


End file.
